Love In The English Way
by CatalystKiller
Summary: Arthur Kirkland is a very simple man and he takes a moment to think about the one has absolutely fallen for: Alfred F. Jones. Story is fluffy, mentions of FrUk and just all around adorable.


_A/N: Hey guys! Short UsUk One-shot for everyone! I never really liked this pairing (long time FrUk fan) but I wanna treat you guys for staying with me and some of you even finding me somehow! Well~ Enjoy!_

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><p>I remember a time when the bloody git would call out to me with open arms, ask for my guide in certain situations and I gave him all the help I could but I kept to rules. Without the rules he would stray into places he shouldn't, he would get hurt but now as I watched him in the bomber jacket I knew. I knew so well that I was harsh, to afraid to let my baby leave my arms and become a proper country.<p>

"Alfred." The name eased out my lips, the sick heart beating in my chest.

_'You love him'_ It called as he got close to me, laughing and taking a bite of another blasted burger. The American was so beautiful to me as he stood there in that jacket that he only let me wear once. It had been a cold winter day and I had become sick (probably from the frog that spew his nasal fluids on me!). Weak and weary, I stumbled upon the flat terrain of London streets when I felt a heavy weight on my shoulders and an arm around my waist. Alfred stood as tall as the buildings in his country, taking me home. No matter how many times I told him that I could make it myself and that I didn't his bloody arm around me.

"Arthur." He whispers my name into my ear. I can't help but let a blush color these cheeks.

The boy I was forced to let got was now a man before me, taking care of me, when I was much older and should have cared for him. Alfred let himself cover me in small pecks and kisses, which in turn I returned with a little bit of hesitation. He spoke no words, being as silent as the day he became independent.

"Arthur, I love you." No. Don't say that you fool! I, I can't lose you again and this is evident in the tears rolling down my cheeks, telling him that I am happy and yet sad at the fact he says these things.

Alfred knows the problems with people leaving me. He remembers when I broke it off with the frog. Even though I did it, I cried for what seemed like years. Alfred knows my problems with showing that I love him, that I show it in all the wrong ways. God, He should know that better than anyone and the funny thing is that he does. He does understand how I feel, how I work, and how I think. Everything about me he knows because at one point I told him all my flaws and faults. I did this so he would become a strong country like me. Ha. He isn't strong now. He's falling apart just like me.

Maybe that is why I love him so much. Why he loves me so much. We are both falling apart but we are doing it together.

He sets his hand on my hips. Letting love take it's toll as it causes him to slap those hips against mine, to make me cry out and close my eyes. Alfred is the only thing that can circle in my head, I am sure I am the only thing running through that pretty little head of his as well. He pants out those three little words and I moan them out as well. We are both guilty of having this right here.

This is wrong, from Father to Son, Brother to Brother, and now Lover to Lover but I guess we won't ever stop chasing each other for something more, something further than this. Maybe I can raise countries with him as I did with France. Haha, such a simple thought that makes me cry. Makes him push in harder, he is crying as well. The git is crying and telling me that he won't ever stop loving me, won't ever stop thinking about me. Alfred's moment of weakness makes me cry more, holding onto him as we finish, the climax as I call out his name one more time. There is something more behind my tone and we both know it.

"Alfred" I say again, his body holding onto mine.

"Yeah, babe" That slang makes me smile because he never liked proper English.

"Would you ever raise a smaller country with me? Also, proper English, love, proper English." Alfred let's out a small whine and uses the accent that he hides, the one I gave him since birth.

"Yes I would. I would love to." This moment is silent as he kisses up my neck and across my jaw line, little shivers running down my spine.

Arthur Kirkland, the one not alone in his thinking, yes that is me. Thinking about the American dream. The white fence, the children running through the yard with a golden dog and here comes Alfred in a suit, pulling me into a deep kiss.

"Honey, How was your day?" He would say, I would answer with a long list of things I did with the kids and several times I would say I loved him.

This dream I have secretly wanted for years, even with France I wanted the simple life but an endless list of things lead to problems. Some my fault and some his fault but with Alfred there is always a good time, always a carefree day along with a hint of seriousness in it to weight it all out.

I remember a time when the bloody git would call out to me with open arms, ask for my guide in certain situations and I gave him all the help I could but I kept to rules. Well now, there are no rules.

Love never had a set of rules, I tried to put rules on them and I guess Francis and Alfred taught me that very well. If there are rules then I couldn't go by those rules. The natural rebel in me.

Alfred kisses me and I know it's all gonna be okay.

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><p><em>AN: Sorry if this is short guys! Review, advice and critism is very much appericated! Also, I have this headcanon that America still has a little bit of an English accent when he talks due to the fact that England is 'father' haha! _


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